


Smoothing the Edges

by theLiterator



Series: Shades of Grey [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, OMC - Freeform, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2010-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when your Warden Commander is in love with his Assassin and chief adviser, some days things just don't go quite right. That's when Luth steps in, though they'll never find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoothing the Edges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traxits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/gifts).



> Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox; it was a treat.
> 
> This is set in Traxits' Shades of Grey universe, using OCs introduced there. If you haven't, I highly suggest reading it-- both for this fic to make sense and because the series is Just That Awesome.

It was Rylan who pointed it out to him; or made him pay attention rather.

"Why is it that when _they're_ fighting, we always reap the benefits?" he'd demanded angrily after a particularly grueling sparring session with Zevran.

Zevran did seem particularly fierce when he was angry with Alistair, a fact Luthanuel had managed to overlook before. He noticed that Alistair didn't seem to care-- or maybe that he _cared_, he just didn't know what was wrong or how to fix it.

Luth had watched the two Commanders (one in name, the other in conviction) snarling about road patrols and merchants, and both had sent some sort of silent cue and left, each to his separate room, simultaneously.

It took four days, that time, for Alistair to remember that Zevran held grudges with the best of them. It took four days for Alistair to apologize, though he did it in high-style, with a wooden token that charmed Zevran, who, if Luth were forced to speculate, wasn't accustomed to receiving gifts.

***

This time, Luth hadn't been present for the initial flare up.

All he had to go on was Zevran's tight-mouthed seething and his viciousness in the courtyard, making them all take hard falls more than a few times.

Luth approached Zevran who was pacing in one of the less-used drawing rooms upstairs, back straight and face blank in that sort of deliberate mask he sometimes used.

"Ser," he began, hesitating just long enough for Zevran to snarl 'it's _Zevran_' at him, as he usually did.

"I was wondering if you needed any help with something?" he offered. He was well aware that outright asking what was wrong would do nothing but force the elf further on the defensive. He was often glad he'd never have to go to Antiva, given the way Zevran reacted to situations like this.

It would be terrible to be forced to rely on oneself for _everything_ to the point he ended up mistrustful of any gestures of compassion from outsiders.

Zevran stopped his pacing to stare at him. "No." he said distinctly. "You must focus on training, if your performance today is anything to go by," he added cuttingly.

Luth suppressed a smile. "Of course, _ser_." he said, before withdrawing.

***

The door to the library Alistair used was slightly ajar, and Luth took that as an invitation to slip inside. Alistair looked up at his entrance, but almost immediately slumped back in his chair with disappointment.

Luth considered, briefly, shaking the Warden Commander until he saw reason, but decided against it.

"Warden Commander," he said politely, not bothering to salute. Alistair didn't care for that.

"Ah, Luth-Luthanuel. Was there something wrong?" he asked, craning his neck to peer over his should and out the window behind him.

Luth shook his head. "No. Or, rather, I was going to ask you the same question."

Alistair shrugged a little, ran his hand through his hair. "I have no idea. You know how he gets," he said with a dismissive wave. "If he'd just _tell me_, I could fix it, but..."

"I see," Luth said. "I'd better get back to training," he added, to cover his retreat.

"Yes, you do that. If you figure out what it is..." Alistair trailed off.

Luth didn't respond, simply left the room and headed for the sunshine of the courtyard and the camaraderie of the recruits.

***

In the courtyard, Rylan and Blaen were testing their skill against all comers, and while Luth would normally join in, if only to knock Rylan down a notch, he was too distracted.

If Alistair didn't know what was wrong, and Zevran wouldn't tell him, he had no real choice but to stay silent and take his lumps from Zevran in the courtyard until Alistair came around. If Alistair ever came around.

He moved into the shaded edge of the courtyard, a nice vantage point that made it hard for the people he was watching to see him, and one of the low bushes near the wall caught his eye.

It was forlorn, bare of foliage in preparation for winter, and nestled in the branches was a tiny nest, perfectly woven. He smiled.

It was then he'd remembered the token Alistair had pressed into Zevran's hand last time, a sheepish smile on his face, and the way Zevran had held it. He'd seemed so _pleased_ by the gesture.

Luth carefully untangled the nest from the bush, sending a silent apology towards whatever bird might have called it home, and went back into the keep.

***

Things settled in the keep, for a while. As well as Zevran and Alistair complemented one another, though, there were bound to be little flare ups. Zevran was guarded and paranoid, and Alistair was blunt and guileless.

Every time, Luth gave them a day to figure it out on their own, but usually ended up buying some minor trinket from a merchant or picking wildflowers and leaving them at Zevran's door to keep things running smoothly. It was his job as de facto second in command, after all.


End file.
